


(And a Kiss)

by stellatundra



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellatundra/pseuds/stellatundra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of telling Baz about the kiss his mother gave him, Simon decides to pass it on. Chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(And a Kiss)

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate version of the events in chapter 39 in which Simon tells Baz about his mother's visit.

SIMON

“What else?” he asks. “Was there anything else?”

I hesitate for a moment. Surely I could just _tell_ him about the kiss. But she’d said to give it to him, hadn’t she? Baz’s eyes narrow and he looks ready to spring up and throttle me any second.

“She said to give you something,” I blurt out. “I - I’m not sure if -”

“Crowley, Snow, just give it to me.” His tone is impatient, hands flexing, but there’s something yearning behind it and I feel - not sorry for him, exactly, I don’t think he’d ever forgive me if I did - but I feel _something_ , something that makes me step forward, quick as a flash and press my lips against his temple in a gentle kiss. 

If I’d ever thought about it, I think I would have expected his skin to taste like ashes. (I haven’t ever thought about it) (Obviously). Only it doesn’t, it’s cool but clean and when I breathe in I inhale the scent of that posh soap of his.

“This,” I say, my voice suddenly unexpectedly croaky, my lips still a breath away from his skin. “She asked me to give you this.”

I pull back slowly, but not carefully enough. Our noses bump, my lips brush his cheekbones. I wonder why I’ve never noticed before just how beautiful his eyes are. His pupils are so wide his grey eyes are almost black. I feel his breath against my lips. I know he breathes. I still don’t know whether he actually _needs_ to breathe. I’ve spent enough time watching him, trying to figure it out. It seems like an important thing to know about your nemesis. My eyes drop to his lips and then, without even thinking about it, I’m pressing my mouth against his. It’s like an irresistible impulse. (Except it isn’t, because I’ve had an irresistible impulse cast on me before and it feels nothing like this). Our lips catch together, three, four, five times. My skin is tingling. My hand is in his hair and I don’t even know how it got there. 

It’s nothing like kissing Agatha. 

“Simon,” he says, choked, disbelieving. He never calls me Simon. 

I pull back again, hovering awkwardly. Baz is still sitting on the end of his bed, his hands curled into fists gripping the bedclothes. His eyes are closed. It’s so quiet I can hear my heart beating. I bet he can hear it too. His eyes flicker open. I’m already bracing myself for a scathing outpouring of his disgust when I realise that I recognise the look in his eyes and it isn’t disdain. It’s fear. Baz, cool, collected, unflappable vampire Baz, is terrified. 

He swallows hard before his face rearranges itself into its customary sneering expression.

“Was that from my mother as well?” he mocks.

“No,” I say. “That was from me.” I look down at him. It’s not often I get to do that, not since he had a growth spurt in our second year and shot up past me. 

I wait for him to say something, do something. To charge at me, hit me, roommate’s anathema or no roommate’s anathema. (I don’t want him to. The thought of him being cast out, the thought of this room without him, _again_ , makes me ache). But he doesn’t move. It’s disconcerting. I wonder if he’s in shock. It occurs to me that a message (and a kiss) from your long dead mother is probably enough of an emotional gut-punch without adding an unexpected snog from your roommate-slash-nemesis on top of everything, and I feel like a right wanker.

Any minute now he’ll recover enough to try to kill me. I should probably leave. 

Only I think about him saying _Simon_ in that strangled voice and it makes my breath catch in my throat. I think about kissing him. I think about how much I liked kissing him and how much I’d like to do it again. Which comes as something of a surprise. I wonder if _I'm_ in shock.

There are really only two options. The first is to run. Get out the door and leg it as far away from our room, as far away from Baz as possible. Okay, admittedly this is the coward’s way out. Chosen Ones are not supposed to be cowards. (Penny said, once last year when I was agonising over my relationship with Agatha, that being emotionally immature is a kind of backlash from having to be brave and Chosen all the time). (I think she was trying to be nice). Running is also not really a permanent solution since we share a room and all. We might manage a few days of glowering at each other across the halls of Watford but eventually we’re going to have to come back here to our room and...

The second option is to talk about it. Baz and I don’t really talk. About anything. Then again, we don’t usually kiss either. Pretty much everything from here on in is uncharted territory. 

Maybe there’s a third option. Could I cast “ _ **It never happened**_ ” and get away with it? It’s an advanced spell. Best case scenario we have to have this entire conversation over again. Worst case scenario we both forget who we are and what we’re doing here and there’s nobody to stop the Humdrum and his nefarious plans. On balance, it's probably better not to. 

Sod it. 

"I’m sorry.” I say. 

It’s easily the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and that includes facing the Chimera and the Humdrum and facing down the Mage when he wanted me to leave Watford.

“Shut up,” Baz snarls.

And then he surges up and kisses me fiercely, taking me by surprise and knocking me off balance so that I land on top of him on his bed (on his _bed_ , Merlin and Morgana!). His hands are in my hair and under my shirt and we’re kissing and kissing and kissing. 

It turns out there is a third option after all.


End file.
